


Look At Me

by stydia_xo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Future, I suck at tagging, Pre-college Stydia, Romance, Scenes from the show, Wedding Stydia, When I mention other characters I literally mean mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 14:56:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3138443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stydia_xo/pseuds/stydia_xo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They did say, “I love you”.<br/>In fact, it was quite the monumental milestone in their relationship when they exchanged those special words. You’d be surprised to hear that Lydia said it first. And she was a nervous, stuttering mess. Stiles easily returned it, and it was beautiful, endearing, and magical.<br/>But that’s a story for another time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look At Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first story on here and I'm really excited to share with everyone. I write and post Stydia fanfiction on Tumblr (http://stydia-xo.tumblr.com) but I'm brand new to AO3. Someone suggested I start posting my work on here so, hi. 
> 
> This was for a prompt: Can you write a fanfic where Stydia get together but they don’t say 'I love you' they say something that's their own couple thing.
> 
> I’m not really sure if this is what you had in mind, but honestly all I could think of was ‘Okay? Okay.’ from TFIOS and obviously I can’t one up that. So here’s what I came up with…  
> (You’ll definitely be able to recognize the first two scenes since you’ve seen them on the show already.)  
> Enjoy!

They did say, “I love you”.

In fact, it was quite the monumental milestone in their relationship when they exchanged those special words. You’d be surprised to hear that Lydia said it first. And she was a nervous, stuttering mess. Stiles easily returned it, and it was beautiful, endearing, and magical.

But that’s a story for another time.

This story is about another phrase, one entirely their own as a couple.

And it all started with a kiss.

\- - -

She was pulling him into the nearest door, and it happened to be the boys’ locker room. She needed to get him out of that crowded hallway. The state he was in wasn’t something any of their nosey classmates needed to be concerned with.

“Come on…come on…” She murmured encouragingly, the boy panting and letting her lead him by the arm.

He fell against a row of lockers before stumbling to the ground and Lydia only followed, getting down on her hands and knees.

“Just try and think about something else…anything else.” She knew it was practically impossible. That right now his body was stuck in a complete state of anxiety. But she wasn’t exactly an expert on panic attacks.

“Like what?” He stammered, an incredulous look on his face.

“Happy things, good things!” She responded, “Uh, friends, family!”

He whipped his head up, eyes narrowed and face wrinkled in disbelief that she just mentioned family when the whole reason he was panicking was because his father was taken.

“Uh I mean not family! Oh god…Okay.” She dropped her head, looking down at where her hands were pressed against the ground, trying to relax him but also herself.

She lifted her head and watched the boy in front of her, gesturing with her hand, “Just, try and slow your breathing.” Her face was etched with sympathy and pain, knowing how hard this was for him.

Stiles attempted to do just that, letting out huffs of air but it was no use. “I-I can’t. I can’t.” He clutched at his chest with one hand, the other palm holding him up on the floor.

Lydia reached with shaking fingers to cup his face, “Sshh, shhh Stiles. _Look at me_.”

And he did. He lifted his stare to hers, so scared about what was happening to his body but when meeting her gaze, he felt like someone was looking after him.

“Shhh _look at me_ …Stiles…” She murmured softly, her emerald eyes flickering over his features, and only one thing came to her mind.

She kissed him, their lips colliding, and his eyes wide and shocked at first, but soon he melted into her, losing himself while the world stopped for a few brief, electric seconds.

And he can finally breathe. And he’s calm. And it’s all because of her. And she’s looking at him thinking maybe, just maybe she could love him back.

\- - -

The concrete floor beneath her was cold against her legs, and the leather strap holding her against the pole was suffocating. She hated feeling useless and as of now, that’s the only thing she was feeling.

But one thing, one person was keeping her sane in this insane asylum. And it was the boy behind her.

Brunski was putting in the tape of her grandmother. And Lydia was inwardly panicking because she wasn’t sure if she could endure it. The head orderly was crouched beside her, watching her face for a reaction, taking some sort of sick pleasure out of inflicting this torture.

“What are you…Brunski, what are you doing?” A feminine voice, shaky with fear came over the speaker.

“Don’t worry, Lorraine. It’s going to be all right. You’re just going to have a little trouble breathing.” Brunski’s younger self sounded out in response.

Stiles loathed this man, his jaw tight and eyes dark with hatred. And for making Lydia sit through this, he only hated him even more. He craned his neck as far as he could, catching a glimpse of her strawberry blonde hair and wishing he could look at her face properly. “Lydia, _look at me_.” His eyes were glued to the back of her head, silently urging her to turn just slightly.

“Don’t listen, okay? Don’t listen to it.” He spoke in a soft murmur with a trembling breath, and while it wasn’t the ultimate solution she was so grateful she had him with her right now.

“Just focus on m my voice, alright? You don’t listen to it. Block it out, okay?” He continued. He could only imagine what was going on in that exquisitely complex mind of hers.

Lydia turned her face up to the ceiling, tears overflowing out of her glassy eyes, doing her best to let the sound of his voice soothe her but it was so hard. Her face was etched with despair and all she could comprehend was that these were her grandmother’s last words and wishes.

He pulled and pried against the restraints, knowing she was letting it get to her. “Lydia.” He whipped his head around to glare at Brunski, way past irritated. “Hey, turn it off!”

His voice was the opposite of what it was seconds ago. When he spoke to the love of his life, it was gentle and reassuring. Now it was harsh, loud, menacing.

It was another second before Brunski responded, angered that this boy was trying to intrude on his torment towards the girl. His fist collided against Stiles’ face, a hard blow that made Lydia snap. She turned as much as she could, pulling against where she was being held, shouting, “Stop!” 

Jordan Parrish may have swooped in to save the day, clad in his officer’s uniform, gun in hand. But that wasn’t what stuck out for Lydia Martin that day.

She realized that while their year had been rocky, with new people around and old people gone, Stiles was still her partner and best friend. She replays his comforting words in her mind at night, when she’s feeling alone.

\- - -

It’s taken 18 years but Lydia finally felt like things in her life were lining up exactly how they should be.

She didn’t exactly see it panning out the way that it had. She didn’t think Jackson would turn into a lizard, or that they’d inevitably have to break up (not because of the lizard part but because he was also an ass). She didn’t think she’d get bit by a werewolf and deal with months of confusion about her own supernatural identity. She didn’t think she’d make a best friend and lose her way too soon. She didn’t think her close-knit group of friends would be made up of such a motley crew, or should she say, a wolf pack. And she certainly didn’t think the love of her life would be Stiles Stilinski. But now that the dust had finally settled she could say that she was truly happy.

In just a couple of weeks she’d be off to attend Yale, starting a new chapter of her life. The pack was going to be dealing with separation but it was all for the best. They had dreams that extended outside the small confines of Beacon Hills and that meant inevitably having to leave the small town.

She thought all of them had dealt with the bulk of the apprehension and fear.

Malia would be staying with Derek and Braeden at their newly renovated loft while she finished her last year of high school. She’d have Liam as company, the young beta now a junior and taking over Scott’s old title as lacrosse captain. Kira was attending Berkeley and Scott was attending UCLA.

Most of them were just pumped about college and starting fresh. But one particular pack member was struggling.

She had just gotten back from dorm shopping when her mom had to duck out early for some date. Lydia had fought off an eye roll before heading home, exhausted from being on her high-heeled feet all day. She wasn’t expecting to find her beloved boyfriend sitting in her room, dejectedly hunched on the end of her bed.

“Stiles, what’s going on?” Her brows furrowed as she dropped her bag on her dresser and sat next to him.

He sighed heavily, his elbows propped on his knees as he used his hands expressively, “I just realized this is like one of the last weekends we have together, the two of us. You know how it’s like our thing to stay in, watching movies and playing video games and making love?”

She scrunches her nose up at the phrase ‘making love’ because it’s always seemed so silly to her even though she can honestly say that’s exactly what they do.

“We won’t be able to do that anymore.” He lifted his honey brown eyes like a sad puppy.

She bit her lip to keep from laughing, “Oh babe.” She rubbed his shoulder and took one of his hands, lacing their fingers together.

“I’m serious, Lyd. I thought I could handle it. You being on the East Coast and me in California at Stanford but I just…I don’t think I can stand being apart from you.” He mumbled dejectedly. He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, breathing in the sweet scent of her shampoo on her curls. It was a needy gesture but she loved when he did it.

Her face softened. “Stiles _look at me_.” She shifted on the bed so he had to pull away from where he was burrowed. She climbed into his lap, straddling him and cupping his jaw with her small hands, drawing his attention up, “ _Look at me._ ”

He felt calm immediately. Stiles’ vulnerable gaze met hers, his hands settling on the dip of where her waist met her hips.

“I told you this when we first applied to schools, when we made our final decisions, at graduation, and I’ll say it now. I don’t care how far apart we are. It’s not going to change how much I love you.” She nodded, eyes locked on his.

He let his thumbs rub circles against the fabric of her sundress as he nibbled his lip, “I just keep thinking you’re gonna find someone else. There’s gonna be a whole new realm of guys out there, and there’s bound to be some that are better than me.”

She shook her head adamantly with a soft giggle, “I’m sure I’m going to meet lots of new people, and roughly half will be male.” It was a fact after all. She’d be in a new state, a new city and a new school.

“There’s a chance they could be charming, funny, probably less spastic than you.” He pouted and she only smirked coyly.

“But it doesn’t mean I’m going to find someone who’s more perfect for me than you. Perfect combination, remember?” She let her fingertips touch upon her favorite moles against his cheeks.

“Plus, Face Time doesn’t always have to require clothing, so that will help.” She teased with a bat of her lashes.

He sighs in relief and gives her that devoted grin that she has memorized. Their lips meet in a tender, affectionate kiss, his palms wrapping around her as he clutches her in his lap. She smiles against his mouth and he can’t help but smile right along with her.

He thinks he’s the luckiest guy because he’s holding his whole world right in his arms.

\- - -

It’s the happiest day of her life because she’s finally becoming Mrs. Lydia Stilinski. But the day isn't picture perfect. They're running a few minutes late, she seriously has to pee and one of her bridesmaids forgot to bring the proper shoes. It has her shaken up as she stands at the altar.

It’s time for her to recite her vows and they had agreed on writing their own. Lydia had memorized hers word for word but still brought up her notes just in case. And she’s glad she did because suddenly she’s unable to speak or form a coherent sentence.

Stiles stands in front of her, dressed immaculately in a tailored suit, eyes bright and looking only at her. The small chapel is filled with her loved ones. But some things just aren’t right and she’s thrown off. 

She goes through a list of worries and it’s stopping her from reading her vows she painstakingly put together.

Her mom didn’t really love the dress she had picked out, she only liked it a lot and she didn’t cry tears of joy at the dress fitting. It was mermaid style, all ivory lace with a strapless sweetheart neckline. Wasn’t it a bad sign that Natalie had only said it was ‘beautiful’ and not ‘breathtakingly beautiful’?

She had expected more guests to attend. Not that 75 wasn’t a great number. But when she was younger, when popularity and superficial social hierarchy were of the upmost importance, she had imagined a guest list upwards of 300. Did that mean they had no friends? Were they doomed to be friendless the rest of their lives?

Then again, some of the most important people that should’ve been there had passed away. And that was another thing. Allison should’ve been there. She should’ve been her maid of honor, standing beside her. And it made Lydia wallow in guilt and loss all over again.

And the biggest worry of all was that she was scared. So scared because she was marrying her soul mate. And that meant that he was the only person capable of truly breaking her heart. And it was terrifying.

All of these worries piled up in her thought process and to any of the guests sitting in the pews, it appeared that Lydia was stunned and speechless. Like a deer caught in headlights.

Stiles was quite amused by his soon-to-be wife. Her plump lips were parted, doe eyes wide like saucers, porcelain cheeks flushed pink with nervousness. And she looked beautiful. Her small fingers gripped the paper of notes in front of her.

Stiles glanced back at his best man, Scott also holding back a chuckle. The werewolf peeked across at his girlfriend and Kira giggled behind her hand, before tapping at Lydia’s shoulder trying to break her still-as-stone appearance.

Stiles let out a deep breath before lifting his nimble fingers up to hers. Lydia’s eyes blinked rapidly, her breath hitching at the touch. He slipped the piece of paper printed with small, neat font out of her tight hold and let it fall to their feet. She suddenly didn’t know what to grasp at but he fixed that easily by lacing their hands together. She stared down seeing how they molded into each other.

“Hey, _look at me_.” She heard his soft whisper and her eyes lifted up to meet his.

He smiled. And she smiled back.

She couldn’t force her mom to cry at the dress fitting. The number was small but it was quality over quantity in terms of the guests attending. Death happened and it was terrible. But Allison was with her in spirit, she could feel it. And Stiles was the love of her life and not a lot of people had the chance of marrying their soul mate.

That one little phrase, _their phrase,_ was all she needed to hear. It now felt like just the two of them up at the altar. Her vows came easily to her now and with that, she opened her mouth and spoke.


End file.
